


Dream a Lifetime

by MelancholyKeys



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Ackerman Paths, F/M, It's very late, Mild mental illness, No Smut, RivaMika Jam, goth mikasa, rivamika
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:01:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21514963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelancholyKeys/pseuds/MelancholyKeys
Summary: Prompt: From Reikasart on Tumblr"An unexpected touch leads Janitor-Levi and Gothkasa to remember their past lives as warriors and lovers."
Relationships: Mikasa Ackerman/Levi
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	Dream a Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

> You have no idea how sorry I am that this is so late. I had finished this a few days before the date but life got in the way and I couldn't publish on time and then shit happened and hit the fan and I was 'away' for a while. It might be too late to be accepted for the Jam but I'll post it anyway under the tag and event. 
> 
> Let me know what you think, if there are any mistakes or it there are parts that don't flow properly. 
> 
> (More notes on my Tumblr, @melancholykeys25)

Mikasa sometimes wonders how different her life would be if she wasn’t troubled by her ‘visions’ and hallucinations. 

Would she have more friends? Most definitely.  
Would she dream? Of course she would — she wouldn’t have to take dreamless sleeping pills.

Would she feel less lonely? 

That’s something Mikasa is unable to figure out. Sure she would have more friends since she wouldn’t be scaring them off by asking them if they see the blood too, but Mikasa has never understood how people find the comfort of being around others like partners, friends and strangers, or even family. 

Yes sometimes she’ll enjoy the occasional get together she is rarely invited to with friends, but it somehow the feeling of being alone is amplified by the busy chatter of acquaintances that even though they had invited her, seem to steer away from the quiet dead-eyed girl. 

She doesn’t blame them. Really, she doesn’t. If she were someone else she’d stay away from her too. Who wouldn’t? 

Mikasa has learned that when you can see things that aren’t truly there and that are truly frightening to the ‘ordinary’ mind, people seem to make an effort to try and be understanding and caring but what do they really know? They don’t know. And after a while they begin to realise that and slowly distance themselves from the ‘creep’. 

Is she creepy? Mikasa is very much aware of how bored and disinterested she may look but she has to be. When she reacts to the sights only she can see, it reacts with her. It will grow, multiply and come closer, it will smile it’s ugly tainted red smile that looks so sincere but by some means she knows it’s sinister and deadly.  


She knows that her choice of clothes isn’t the brightest but that’s one thing she doesn’t care about. For Mikasa has always felt the need to mourn, mourn who and what she does not know, and so she wears her beloved black. Over the years she has grown into her style and is what some would call a goth but Mikasa likes to think of herself as just… well, her.   
She doesn’t have many piercings or tattoos, contrary to what people might think, Mikasa doesn’t have the highest pain tolerance to sit through hours of tiny needles stabbing into her soft, ivory skin and have an even bigger needle stab through the cartilage of her ear or nose. Chains are favourites of hers, with little or medium sized intricately decorated crosses. She’s not religious really, she’ll pray when she feels she needs to but doesn’t see it as a necessity to go to church every Sunday, besides, if she walks in dressing the way she does, they might just perform an exorcism on the spot. 

She wears the crosses because she can appreciate their beauty in the small details and she admits she wears them for protection, despite not being overly religious.

Regardless of her sort of outside standing in the gothic community, people still treat her like her pupils are inked and there’s ‘Satan’ tattooed in bold on her forehead. 

Maybe she is inhabited by Satan. How else could she explain why she sees mutilated bodies littering the bloody floor and smiling giants with said blood and random limbs in their mouth? She can’t, can she? 

There is one thing that conflicts with that idea. 

She has a guardian angel. 

Or at least that’s what she likes to think he is. He mostly appears standing in front of her with his back towards her wearing a green cape with an emblem on the back that flaps with the wind. Even when there’s no wind that she can feel on her cheeks. 

That’s all she sees. She can see his stature — which is rather short she might add —, can always see the white and blue wings stitched onto the back, can see how the fine hairs on his head, can see the stark outline of his muscles beneath his white shirt and pants. But she has never seen his face. 

He vanishes when he turns to her, just before she can make out features in the light. Mikasa doesn’t exaggerate but it truly is the most frustrating thing in her life. And that includes the times where she had to sit through hours of therapy that went nowhere.  
He is one of the few things that comfort her, the things that make her feel safe and perhaps, free. There’s a familiarity to him that she hasn’t attempted to explain because she knows how idiotic she would sound and simply because there is no way she could properly convey it to anyone but herself. 

There’s the feeling of security, of intimacy, and friendship, and strength — in both him and herself. She has an inkling of what others might call this but she has never experienced that full feeling herself to be aware of such a compassion that is fleeting in the few seconds he is there.

  
It’s in those moments after he’s gone does she feel the agony of being utterly alone.

* * *

Mikasa has always enjoyed the quiet of the library. One may think that with an unstable mind like hers, the quiet is where her inner voices are the most talkative. Instead, it’s as if she’s normal, the only voice in her head being her own conscience. 

Like clock-work, the second she crosses the threshold to a secluded table between tall rows of dusty books, the voices simmer down. Mikasa found this spot early in her semester and was amazed to find that no one seemed to know it was there, as it was always vacant.Setting her bag on the floor next to the slightly uncomfortable chair, she grabs her thick biology text books and sets them down on the rustic table next to her tea. Now, usually you’re not supposed to bring any food or drink into the library but her bag is big and can fit a flask without drawing any suspicion. And it’s not like security is going to search through her bag like customs, is it? 

So for the next two hours, Mikasa studies, occasionally sipping her brew of sencha and honey. Strangely today feels for tedious, the information of microbiology that is usually absorbed in her brain like sponge and water, fascinating her and boosting her mentality of studying, is becoming tiresome. She finds herself having to reread the same paragraphs, her pen and head alike often falling to rest on the glossy pages. 

Thinking back to the hours earlier of the day and the previous night, she comes to understand that she shouldn’t have skipped a nap so she could get more hours of study in. The previous night she had stupidly agreed to take on an extra shift at work that night for the much needed extra cash, knowing full well that she had an eight AM lecture that would last for at least four hours. Followed by another two hour lecture of philosophy, and then a three hour waitressing shift at the cafe downtown. 

And so, she isn’t surprised when she feels her eyes slowly start to droop and her head nod forward, the tiredness from holding the weight of a non-existent world on her shoulders. 

* * *

  
_She’s soaring, she can feel the wind whipping against her cheeks, the trees swatting at her face and arms, can feel the her muscles ache as the slam against the thick branches as she falls._

_Wait. What?_

_Falling. That’s what she’s doing. The branches are snagging on her clothing, the rip nearly inaudible through the rustle of leaves. Her arms feel useless, they’re not flaying at her side trying to grab onto anything, they’re limp and floating above her as gravity pulls her down closer to the ground._

_She wonders how much farther is left, counting the drum of her heart and waiting for the ground to reach her, but it doesn’t come._

_A jolt and she’s in a cocoon. Muscled arms are encircled around her and she’s no longer falling. The pull of gravity is gone and so is her panic, the familiar security back again._

_Familiar, something is too familiar about this.This has happened before hasn’t it?_

_Mikasa begins to notice the straps crossed along her body that press into her muscles and run into her boots. There’s something warm on her side, warm and wet. Curious she strains her neck against the awkward hold to look down at her torso and sees crimson blooming on white fabric. Funny, she doesn’t even remember how it happened._

_Slowly she can feel the effects of the blood loss from the wound, her vision spotting and blurred. Her body feels exhausted and heavy, wanting to succumb to the sleep plaguing her limbs and mind, amplified by the stabbing pain gradually making itself known in her torso._

_She really wants to sleep, to close her eyes and not feel the ache anymore. Faintly, she can recognise the sound of someone calling her name. Since when was her hearing fogged?_

**_“Mikasa!”_ **

  
Mikasa starts up in chair, her back and neck sore from the odd angle it was hunched over on the desk. It’s only then she realises how late it is. Most of the lights are off and the only illumination of her surroundings is the faint glow from the the chandeliers in the main hallways and from the sun setting through the window, signalling she had slept through at least two hours and that the library had closed long ago.

“Shit.” 

“Tch.” 

Oh, she’s not alone. 

Turning in her chair, she faces what she expects to be the old librarian for a scolding or at least a security guard to force her out. She did not however expect a short (but dare say attractive) man in overalls, otherwise known as the janitor.

  
In the faint light she could just make out his features, scowling. At her.   
“About damn time you woke up, brat.”   
  
Slightly ashamed, Mikasa hangs her head.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I had slept through closing period, I’ll get going and leave you to your work…”

He scoffs and holds a hand out to stop her midway from getting up. 

“It’s fine, I’ll let you stay in here till I’m done. It seems as though you’ve missed out on most of your time.” He eyes her clutter of books on her desk and she only just sees the small puddle of drool dampening her page, and she feels a blush taint her cheeks. 

“How can I trust you? I don’t know you.” She notes cautiously.   
He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms and says “Tch, no you don’t know me and you have no reason to trust me. But, if I wanted to take advantage of you I would’ve done so already.” 

She can’t really argue with that, considering that she was asleep, alone, in the dark, in a very secluded area of the library. 

“Fine,” she sighs, although it lacks sincerity she knows, “…thank you.”

And with that, he leaves. 

Turning back to her textbooks with an exhale, Mikasa takes full advantage of the opportunity presented to her and throws herself back into her work, trying to forget the compelling familiarity of the same security in her dreams she felt from him.

The sun has completely set by the time she lifts her head to cast a glance towards the window, taking the moment to alleviate her cramping hand. 

Having decided that she got in enough work done, she hurriedly packed away her things and donned her bag before leaving the confines of her little secret sanctuary. 

It’s only when she leaves does she realise just how empty the hall is.   
The only light illuminating her destination being the one hanging by the front desk, it’s there she sees the man from earlier walking through the doors, having changed out of his work clothes it seems, walking towards her. Though it appears he is not aware of her presence in the shadows yet. 

He’s probably on his way to get me, she thinks to herself. 

Mikasa hurries her pace, wanting to quickly reach him — partially because she wants to save him the trouble of getting her, and partially because there’s blood seeping from the shelves of books beside her.   
Mikasa walks up to him just before he enters into the dark maze of books. 

  
When he sees her emerge from the shadows, he’s about to open his mouth to say something but Mikasa beats him to it, she really just wants to leave already and go satisfy the hunger in her stomach. 

“I’m done so I’m going to head out.” She states impassively. 

He frowns slightly then, and she discovers that he doesn’t look to be that much older than her, only a few years maybe. And that he is surprisingly stylish. Huh. 

“Tch, I was just about to lock up anyway.” 

He turns to leave again with his hands in his denim pockets but not before nodding his head towards the doors as a way of telling her to follow, so, wordlessly she does. 

As they silently pass through the doors, Mikasa feels overwhelmed with that feeling of familiarity again. It causes her to pause after him while he slots the key in and checks to make sure it’s locked, she’s not sure why but the voices in her head are telling her to stay, to say something. She wants to listen, wants to succumb to it, for this might be the only time the voices could actually be right. 

He’s just about finished when she breaks the silence. 

“Thank you, again, for letting me stay in for longer.”   
The sincerity is clear in her voice now, clear enough for him to recognise it and slowly face again, and it becomes apparent just how short he is, his neck tilting back a bit to look at her and just how tired he is too. 

He sighs, bowing his head down before looking at her again. “You’re welcome.” 

It stills into an awkward silence on Mikasa’s part, though she’s sure that if she left right now she wouldn’t t have to worry about it. But then she wouldn’t have an answer, and that prompts her to break the silence once again.

“Do I… do I know perhaps? I’m not sure where really ‘cause this is the first time I’ve seen you on campus but I feel like I’ve met you before…” She mumbles, tugging on the end of her red scarf. 

  
He’s quiet for a few seconds, and it makes Mikasa think if she’s somehow disrespected him for not realising that she has indeed met him before or for mistaking him for someone else. She’s hoping it’s neither.

“No, I don’t think we’ve met before.”

She deflates slightly and she doesn’t know why. That was the answer she was hoping for, right? So why does it feel as though someone important to her is walking away when she doesn’t even know the man? 

“Well, in that case, I’m Mikasa.” She stretches her hand out. 

  
He hesitates for a moment before meeting her outstretched hand with his and squeezing lightly. 

“Levi.” 

* * *

_“Captain, your leg is straining.”_

_Usually during their training, captain Levi only showed physical strain hours into their sessions when they’d been sparring long enough to break a sweat for both of them. However, not even an hour into their training and Mikasa could see he was favouring his right leg and whenever he was forced to put weight on it, she could catch the flinch on his usually stoic features._

_“I’m fine” He said gruffly. But with every kick and punch he had to block or dodge, he was getting slower and slower._

_This would not do for Mikasa._

_“Oi. What the hell do you think you’re doing? I never said we were finished.” He demanded, seeing as Mikasa had lowered her stance and began her post-workout stretches._

_“Your leg says otherwise sir. Don’t deny it sir, even now you’re resting on your right.” She nodded towards him. And indeed, he was resting his weight on the uninjured leg._

_“My leg is fine Ackerman,” As if to further prove his point, he balanced the weight and walked towards her, though she could still trace a slight limp in his stride, “it’s just this shitty weather that makes it act up.”_

_Mikasa looked up, confused. “The sky is clear sir, and incase you did not notice from our sweat and other soldiers lounging around in the shade, it is unbelievably hot out. There is no ‘shitty’ weather. So, just admit it sir, you’re in pain and not because of the ‘shitty weather’.”_

_Sometimes Levi couldn’t believe this brat was still in the corps with her attitude towards superiors. Specifically him._

_“So, with all due respect sir, I’d much rather we end our training here for the day and continue when there isn’t ‘shit’ weather so I don’t have to hold back and basically spar with Jean because of your old injury.”_

  
_“Oi, you piece of shit —“_

_“And… I don’t want you to further injure yourself sir…”_

_Levi fell silent. He wasn’t expecting that, but to be honest he’s not surprised, though Mikasa Ackerman may seem like a cold, disrespectful brat, she still cares underneath all that. He’s learned that properly over the few years._

_With a sigh, Levi calms. “You still blame yourself for that, even though it was three years ago.”_

_Mikasa tugs her scarf up out of habit and embarrassment, something she’s never really grow out of. “It is my fault sir —“_

_“Still at it with this shit again? How many times do I have to hammer it through your thick skull that it was my choice to save you?” He’s almost yelling now, despite sounding so calm a minute ago, and it throws Mikasa off guard._

_“It wouldn’t have had to be your choice if I had listened to your orders!”_

_She’s getting defensive and Levi knows that it’s only going to get worse from here, and it already gives him a headache just from the prospect of what would come next if he doesn’t calm both of them down._

_“Mikasa…” He rubs his temples as he thinks of the words he needs to say to steer it away from the broken path._

_She seems to deflate at the sound of her name, he rarely ever says it, only for apologies or when they’re both vulnerable. She has a feeling it’s the latter in this case._

_“I’m sorry.” She whispers, soft enough for the wind to nearly drown it but he still hears the honesty in it, and with that he sighs with closed eyes._

_“It’s fine. We’ll end here for today.”_

* * *

  
_It’s raining. Despite there being not a single cloud below the hot sun that day. And not just raining, no, there’s thunder and there’s wind. And Mikasa wonders what she did to upset the gods to punish her so._

_Mikasa had been assigned stable duty that evening after Connie had fell ill that afternoon before he was to muck out the stables. Just when she scooped the last shovel of horse manure did she hear the pitter patter of rain on the roof shingles that quickly turned from peaceful splatters to thunderous poundings._

_She had contemplated running out across the far field to headquarters through the rain with no jacket and coat and to just brace for the cold winds, but mother nature decided that that was not an option. Lightning flashes where shining through the cracks in the barn walls incessantly that irritated Mikasa’s eyes in the darkness._

_It was cold, and the make-shift bed of hay wasn’t exactly comfortable or helping with her perpetual sneezing._

  
_Cold and aching, Mikasa sat in her own relative silence. She thought back to this morning and mused if maybe this was punishment for disrespecting the corporal during their annual training. Not likely, she thinks. As this — this being attitude — has been going on for years now, the private training slowly becoming more familiar with one another to the point where a slip of names would be normal and ignored._

_But something was different today, he was more tense, even before their spar began and the affects of his injury to occur._

_“He probably ran out of tea.” She jokes, a mocking grin on her face, trying to distract herself from the cold and loneliness she felt loom over her in the empty barn._

_With her head resting on her bent knee, she nearly misses the sound of the barn door slamming through the storm and the irked curses to the same heavens she was questioning earlier._

_“Fucking shit rain… damnit Hanji… goddamn ankle… ”_

_She knows that voice anywhere._

_“Captain?”_   
_It’s quiet for a second before she hears him again._

_“Mikasa?”_

_“I’m over here, sir.”_

_She can hear the rustle of his movements as he finds his way around in the dark, with the added curses here and there with a thump. It takes a a few moments for her to sense him in front of her, and when she does she can take in in the shadows that he is almost completely soaked. Mikasa scoots to the side to make more room for him on the hay while he unclasps his coat and hangs it on a low stable wall next to them._

_Levi falls down next to her, his back lying on the hard bale with his arm covering his eyes, Mikasa sitting patiently quiet next to him, trying to ignore how his wet white shirt sticks to and outlines his sculpted muscles._

_She nearly jumps when he speaks up._   
_“Why are you here Ackerman?” He says tiredly. Evidently spent from walking who knows how long in the wind and rain._

_“I was assigned Connie’s stable duty before the storm hit.” She tells him rather impassively._

_“Still not ‘shitty weather’ Ackerman?” Mikasa can hear the smirk through the darkness._

_“No sir, just a light drizzle.” He scoffs at that before a comfortable silence settles over them in the raging storm. It stays like this for a while, Mikasa quietly enjoying his company._

_Suddenly, she recalls something he had said during their training._

_“How’s your leg sir?” She asks, aware of how the storm might be affecting it._

_He sighs before he answers. “It’s not crippled, but this fucking shit storm isn’t really helping either, if anything the cold is worse.”_

_She sits rigid, suddenly remind that the man had walked in drenched by the freezing rain, soaked through to his military issued white shirt, and has been sitting here in wet clothes for more than ten minutes in an equally as cold stable. She thinks how he hasn’t possibly gone into hypothermia yet._

_Looking at him now, he’s awfully close to it. If she stares hard enough for her eyes to adjust to the dark, she can see his figure trembling, and knowing him, he’s probably shaking more trying to fight the cold off._

_“Face the other wall captain.” She more orders than asks._

_“What?” She can hear the slight tremor in his voice, the cold beating him._

_“Just face the other wall sir, please.” This time her tone is softer, soft enough for Levi to tell himself that he’s too tired to argue with her or question her and acquiesces with a reluctant sigh._

_Without a word, Mikasa rotates herself to face him and climbs down to lay behind him. Slowly creeping closer to him, she wraps her arms and legs around him, fully aware of how cold he is to the touch and she’s grateful it’s dark and he isn’t facing her otherwise he would see the blush spreading across her cheeks._

_“Just what the hell are you doing Ackerman? Get off.” He’s tense but makes no move to push her off, but Mikasa pays no mind to him and just exasperatingly sighs out against his neck, raising the fine hairs on his neck._

_“Just be quiet sir, you’ve already stopped shivering, and this way the both of us can escape the cold.” She says softly, acutely aware of the hard muscles she can feel against her chest._

_He doesn’t say anything, just shifts slightly in her hold, giving in and making himself comfortable. She smiles then, knowing she won._

_Some time passes with the storm raging on outside, and Mikasa is struggling to keep her eyes open, the exhaustion from the days work finally catching up to her. With Levi’s back facing her, she can’t tell if he’s succumbed to sleep yet or is just lying there awake. She truly hopes it’s not the latter._   
_In their silence together, she becomes aware of how perfectly their bodies hold together, it takes all her effort to not giggle at the fact that she is the fairly bigger spoon._

_She doesn’t have to fight it anymore when he speaks, his soft warm breath tickling her arms. She likes the sensation._

_“Thank you, Mikasa.”_

_Mikasa hopes he can’t feel her heart pounding against his back, unusually very flustered, at the fact that his expression of gratitude sounded so sincere or that he said her name, she doesn’t know which._

_And so she keeps quiet, knowing he would appreciate it more than her saying anything, his pride sensitive when it comes to her. Only her._

* * *

  
His hand is quite large she realises, nearly covering hers entirely, despite his otherwise small stature. She can feel the rough calluses against her soft palm, though, the warmness of his hand makes it feel like a soft blanket that she wants to cocoon herself in.

She doesn’t realise that she hasn’t let go of his hand even after an appropriate amount of time, it becoming too long to be comfortable for strangers. But then again, he has made no move to do so himself, in fact, his hold has only tightened. 

As much as she doesn’t want to let go, she clears her throat lightly, breaking him out of whatever trance he was in that at some point they both shared. Mikasa feels that if she didn’t do anything, they would have stood there till dawn. Not that she would’ve minded really…

“I, uhm, sorry.” She stumbles out the apology, wanting to say more but deciding otherwise out of fear that she’ll ramble and end up asking him to dinner, the stranger she just met but has known for what seems like a lifetime. 

“No, it’s fine.” He shields his face with his bangs, but she can see the smirk that has crept onto his lips, probably from how awkward they are, and she can’t help but to grin herself.  
“If you don’t mind me asking, do I know you? Have we met before?” She decides to voice her uncertainties, to curious as to why she knows almost everything about him, curious as to why she has seen him in a five second dream depicting months, years even, of camaraderie, trust, and a mutual love that was so soft and shy yet just what both of them needed. 

Levi freezes, his eyes widening slowly with the few seconds that have ticked by between them. Mikasa wonders if she has somehow offended him, too much self-inflicted isolation that she has forgotten how to interact with a human being. She’s about to apologise for not possibly remembering a previous encounter with him that he seems to surely remember before he cuts off her breath.

“I’m… not sure.” His features relax a little, as if coming to terms with the fact that he indeed did just see a whole lifetime in seconds that was intertwined with this woman standing timidly in front of him, and somehow it doesn’t sit well with him that she isn’t standing tall and fierce. She’s supposed to be.

Mikasa sighs with a smile then, a small weight lifted from her mind. His response telling her that he is burning with the same turmoil and confusion and relief as she. 

“Well then Levi, whether we have met before or not, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” And she means it. 

He gently smiles back at her, and she can tell he does not smile often, the smile awkward and a little lopsided but she finds it to suit him. 

“Pleasure’s mine, Mikasa.”


End file.
